Survival in the last days of America

In the following weeks, Brian began training Amir on the school grounds. As he had expected, his roommate's physical condition was shockingly weak.

But it wasn't hard to understand — otherwise, how could Amir have been bullied for so long without ever fighting back?

At first, due to his injuries, Amir only did light exercises: running and simple stretches to warm up his body.

Once most of his wounds healed, Brian started training him more seriously, pushing him to exhaustion every day. As for academics… well, Brian didn't even need to check — he knew Amir would be failing badly.

Amir gradually improved. From a pale, trembling boy barely able to move, he slowly adapted to the new routine. His once silent and withdrawn personality also became slightly more open. Though he still wore that same blank expression, at least now he looked less like a ghost lost in grief.

Meanwhile, more student groups formed around the courtyard. Besides those who refused to train and preferred chatting along the sidelines, there were others who trained diligently and waited together after finishing.

It seemed the recent surge in campus violence made everyone more cautious. Students naturally started forming teams for mutual protection.

The strangest sight of all? A group of students who completely gave up on physical training altogether. They focused entirely on studying — attending class, then heading straight to the library. Their dedication was absolute.

As for the gang that had previously bullied Amir, they frequently showed up near the field, clearly looking for revenge.

Although being beaten by a girl was humiliating, the pain from that night was still fresh in their minds. Cowards by nature, they wouldn't dare pick fights with anyone strong.

Still, getting randomly attacked left them bitter. They needed an easier target — someone weaker. And who better than the black kid who dared to fight back?

But as long as Amir kept improving, he simply avoided them whenever he saw them. After several failed attempts to find him, the bullies eventually gave up, shifting their attention elsewhere.

Brian also asked Sarah to inform Anna about what happened in administration. Even though the Marlene they found might not be Sylvie's sister, there was always a chance. So during the next three months, it was best to keep searching outside the quarantine zone if possible.

...

Monthly Exam

Time passed quietly until the school's first monthly exam arrived.

This two-day test separated theory and physical training to avoid overwhelming students. The written exams were brutal — each subject scored out of 200, but the number of questions was absurdly high, and time limits were tight. This made even the top students feel anxious.

Though only four subjects were tested, by the end of the day, many felt their hands cramp from writing too much.

Of course, this pressure only affected those who actually tried to study. As for the slackers who spent their days doing nothing… let's just pretend they don't exist.

Compared to the written exams, the physical tests were even harsher. Each exercise had a time limit — push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups, sprints, endurance runs… the more you completed within the time, the more credits you earned. It was a full-day evaluation.

For those who trained daily, this was a golden opportunity to earn credits. For those who wasted their time, it was irrelevant.

The school never forced anyone to improve. People often resisted when pushed. But once they realized improvement meant rewards, they'd start working harder on their own.

After the results came out, Brian received a total of 30 academic credits on his white magnetic card.

At first, he didn't know how valuable 30 points was. But when he went to the only soldier-guarded supermarket inside the school, he finally understood its worth.

There were many items displayed inside:

Basketball – 3 creditsDeck of playing cards – 1 creditShampoo – 1.5 creditsFull set of clothes – 5 credits

And so on. Every item had a clear price tag. Except for weapons and dangerous tools, almost everything else was available — but only if you had enough credits.

Would someone try to steal? The military dismissed that idea quickly. With countless hidden cameras, no one could hide. Even if you managed to leave with stolen goods, they'd track you down within minutes anywhere inside the quarantine zone.

Just as Brian had predicted, if you worked hard and earned credits through monthly exams, you'd gain tangible benefits — things most people couldn't access. This incentive encouraged him to work even harder next time, chasing higher scores.

...

"Whoa! Thirty credits? Did you cheat or something?"

Alan stared wide-eyed at Brian's card, voice filled with disbelief.

He glanced at his own card — only ten credits sat there lonely and low. He suddenly felt like crying.

Frustrated, he leaned against the wall, sighing bitterly:

"Sarah has twenty. Even Dick has fifteen. Why do I have the least?"

"Hahaha..." Sarah chuckled slightly before wrapping her arm around Alan's neck.

"Now you see how it feels, huh? If you didn't study before, what did you expect? At least you passed. Be glad."

"Cough cough! Let go!"

Brian watched the two bicker with a tired expression. Meanwhile, he was already thinking about how to spend his credits.

These credits couldn't buy weapons or knives, but they could greatly improve daily life.

Take food, for example. Daily meals at the cafeteria were fixed. At first, it was fine. But with increasing physical activity, hunger often struck at night. Now, with these credits, he could purchase extra rations to improve nutrition.

Then there was medical treatment. With rising campus violence, bruises and scratches became common. To receive fast recovery care, you needed to pay with credits. Otherwise, you had to wait for natural healing.

Most students already understood the importance of credits. Many buried themselves in books or training after the exam, hoping to score better next time — exactly what the school wanted.

What about serious injuries like internal damage or fractures? The school would never allow such cases to result in permanent disability. In the apocalypse, population was the most precious resource. Turning healthy individuals into useless cripples was a waste they wouldn't tolerate.

Beyond these, there were countless other conveniences. As Brian put it with a smirk: "Those with money are kings."

...

"That's amazing!"

Alan nearly shouted upon hearing Brian's score, eyes wide with shock.

He looked down at his own card — only ten points again. He felt utterly defeated.

Slumping against the wall, he muttered gloomily:

"Sarah got twenty. Dick got fifteen… why am I the worst?"

"Haha…" Sarah lightly laughed while grabbing Alan's neck.

"Now you know what it feels like. If you don't study, what can you expect? Getting ten is already lucky."

"Cough! Cough! Let me go!"

Brian shook his head slightly, already planning how to use his credits.

They couldn't buy weapons or knives — obviously. But they could greatly improve living conditions.

Food, for instance. Meals in the cafeteria were sufficient for survival, but as daily workouts increased, so did appetite. Sometimes he'd wake up hungry in the middle of the night. Now, with these credits, he could purchase extra supplies to improve his diet.

Medical aid was another major benefit. Campus violence was rising, and minor injuries were common. If you wanted quick treatment, you paid with credits. Otherwise, you waited for your body to heal naturally.

Most students had already realized the value of credits. After the exam, many buried themselves in study or training, determined to get better results next time — exactly what the school wanted.

If someone suffered internal injuries or fractures, the school wouldn't let them become disabled either. In this post-apocalyptic world, every person was a valuable asset. Letting them become permanently useless was a complete waste of resources.

The list of credit-based advantages was endless. Brian recalled an old saying from his past life: "Money talks — those with it call the shots."

...

"Sarah!"

Just as Brian was deep in thought, a girl's excited voice broke through the air from somewhere nearby.

Everyone turned. A chubby girl with a round face ran toward them, clearly familiar with the group. She waved at them before throwing her arms around Sarah tightly.

Not showing any resistance, Sarah gently patted Lulu's back, sensing her excitement, and asked:

"What's wrong? Why are you so excited today?"

"Hey! When will you stop acting like a child?" Alan, who clearly had some kind of rivalry with Lulu, stood up immediately, sneering half-mockingly.

"Shut up, brat!" Lulu released Sarah and shot Alan a glare, clearly annoyed.

"Alright, alright," Sarah sighed at the pair's usual bickering. "Tell me, what's making you so happy?"

"I just did!" Lulu hurriedly pulled a letter from her chest and handed it to Sarah, her eyes shining.

"My mom is in the quarantine zone too! She wrote me this letter earlier. Look! She's coming to find me!"

"Seriously? That's great!" Sarah took the letter with genuine joy. She knew how Lulu used to cry silently in corners over missing her family. In this apocalyptic world, finding a relative was incredibly lucky.

Standing beside them, Brian clapped softly in approval, sharing in the good news.

Just then, footsteps approached from behind him. His posture stiffened slightly, but his expression remained calm. Without turning, he simply said:

"Done with your business?"